Chapter 54

Chapter 54: If You Don’t Eat, You’ll Die

The fishman finally dragged himself up onto shore.

He passed a clothing shop, his lower body shifting into a fish tail as he slammed through the display window. Glass sprayed across the sidewalk. He slipped inside and, even with both arms missing, managed to wrap himself in a long coat—pulling it tight around his torso until he looked like a hunched shadow stitched together by sheer stubbornness.

It cost him time he didn’t have. He didn’t dare waste more picking shoes.

Barefoot, he limped toward Meng Jia Hotel.

In his plaid backpack was a high-potency recovery shot—something precious enough to regrow limbs. He could feel it like weight and promise.

But he didn’t inject it.

Not yet.

He didn’t know what waited for him next, and he needed the medicine’s strength when it mattered. So he swallowed the pain and kept moving.

By the time he reached the hotel, he was nearly done. His feet were blistered and bleeding, every step grinding raw skin into pavement. Without a watch, he had no idea if he’d already missed Feng Ling’s two-hour deadline.

The night-shift front desk clerk was young, all smooth posture and practiced calm. When he saw the fishman’s state, his face twitched—just once—before he forced the words out. “Welcome.”

The fishman approached one step at a time.

“I’m in room 410. I lost my key card.”

“Your name, sir?”

“Yu Mo.”

The clerk tapped and checked. “Yes, you’re registered in 410. I’ll issue a spare.”

He held the card out.

The fishman had no hands.

The clerk froze for two seconds, eyes flicking to the fishman’s sleeves, to the empty space where arms should have been. Then he slipped the card into the outer pocket of the coat instead.

The fishman turned away.

He didn’t use the elevator. He took the fire stairs on the right, climbing in slow, punishing increments.

He didn’t go to 410.

He stopped at a door with no number plate and kicked it twice.

Bang. Bang.

Not hard. Controlled. Cautious—like he respected what waited inside.

A woman opened the door. She wore printed silk pajamas, tall and well-built, her hair pinned back. Her skin was ruddy and bare, no makeup, no softness.

The moment she saw him, shock flashed across her face. “How did you end up like this?”

The fishman kept his head down. “My employer is dead. I need to see Old Mo.”

Suspicion narrowed her eyes. She was about to ask why when a hoarse voice drifted from inside the room.

“Let him in.”

The woman clicked her tongue, stepped aside, and let the fishman enter. Then she shut the door behind him.

The room was a standard double. Old Mo lay on the bed with a thin sheet covering his lower half.

The sheet didn’t lie flat.

It rose in uneven bulges—shapes that clearly weren’t human legs.

Old Mo’s voice was calm, tired, and sharp at the edges. “What do you want with me?”

The fishman lifted his head just enough to glance at the man in the bed, then lowered it again. “Moonshadow’s intel was wrong. The hidden Boss doesn’t just have two tentacles with blades. She also has four tentacles with claws. And underwater, she can turn invisible.” His voice tightened. “My employer and two of my brothers are dead. I want compensation.”

“She can turn invisible underwater?” The woman’s eyes widened. “Then it was her who killed Ding Hai! Ding Hai’s ability card was the ghost jellyfish card. In water, he turns transparent!”

Old Mo’s brow furrowed. “Moonshadow. You should have said this earlier.”

Moonshadow’s expression twisted with irritation. “I thought Ding Hai’s ability card had been taken by the inspection team. When I logged out, Ding Hai wasn’t at the villa. Only Fatty rushed out.”

Old Mo didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. “The hidden Boss isn’t dead, so by rights we don’t pay. But we share some responsibility. Moonshadow will pay you 200 points as compensation.”

“Two hundred?” The fishman let out something that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Two hundred per person might be worth talking about. Those two brothers who died—you should pay for them too.”

Moonshadow snapped her gaze to Old Mo. “You said you’d guarantee my safety, so I sold you the intel for 1,800 points. Now you want a cut, and he wants compensation. Am I supposed to lose money selling information?”

Old Mo reclined against the headboard, looking almost bored. “Then how do you think we should solve it?”

Moonshadow glanced at the fishman and smiled. “I kill him. Problem solved.”

The fishman took half a step back, eyes locked on her.

Old Mo nodded slightly. “Fine. But not in the hotel. I don’t want players in Zones 17-22 getting too scared to trade with us.”

The fishman’s voice went colder. “You’re not worried I’ll expose you on the forum?”

“Oh?” Old Mo lifted his head and looked at him, expression steady. “Expose us for what? I keep my word. As long as you’re inside the hotel, we protect you.” His gaze didn’t waver. “Of course, the room fee is 20 points a day. Believe me, that price is already fair.”

The fishman forced a “Thanks” through his teeth and turned away, face dark as he walked out and went back to room 410.

Once he left, Feng Ling’s view could no longer reach that room.

She opened her eyes, thoughtful.

Mark tracking gave her the picture, not the sound. She’d watched where they stood, how they moved, how the room’s air shifted around them—but she hadn’t heard a single word. She couldn’t be sure which aberrant was the one selling intel.

So she made the safest decision.

Kill them all.

Especially the one who could track and search. That one couldn’t be allowed to live.

Feng Ling tugged her collar open again and checked the wound. It had closed by more than half, but something felt off. The recovery was slower than it used to be.

Maybe the fishman’s slime carried some kind of toxin.

Or maybe it was her own body. She was carrying two nests, and her instincts were feeding them energy whether she wanted to or not—stealing recovery from her flesh and pushing it into whatever waited inside.

She’d planned to deal with the nests after the maze. But carrying two burdens into a hotel full of unknown aberrants was asking to die.

She needed to hatch early.

To let Mother Nest nurture new life, she needed a foundation built from ability cards—like laying the base of a structure. Then she needed to stockpile a huge amount of energy—like stacking bricks, layer after layer.

The last step was the finishing step.

Fresh blood and flesh to fill the nest.

That was the one she was missing.

Feng Ling sat up on the medical bed. “Where’s my phone?”

Don’t tell me it was in the water again.

Just thinking it made her temples throb. Was she cursed when it came to water? Her last phone had “died” in Tian Shui River not long ago.

Huang Fu Miao Miao hurriedly pulled it from her bag and handed it over. “It fell on the patrol boat. I picked it up.”

Feng Ling exhaled, almost relieved.

The screen was still open to her chat with Daoist Master Li.

“Aisha: Daoist Master, the sun is about to set.”

“Daoist Master Li: ?”

Ten minutes after that, another message had come through.

“Daoist Master Li: Are you okay?”

Feng Ling paused, then typed.

“Aisha: I’m fine. There was a small accident, so I can only come tomorrow to wait for sunset.”

“Daoist Master Li: Be careful.”

Feng Ling stared at it for a moment and thought, I will. Tonight, I’ll be careful. Tonight, nothing goes wrong.

She closed the chat and opened her map app, searching for nearby markets and supermarkets.

Fresh blood and flesh. The quickest way was fish and meat vendors.

She climbed out of the van.

Su Yu Qing was still with Zhou Zhou, building the operation plan piece by piece. The moment he saw her, he asked, “Recovered?”

Feng Ling hesitated for half a second. “I’m hungry. I’m going to find something to eat.”

“Then go,” Zhou Zhou said immediately, turning to Su Yu Qing like he needed to justify it. “Her appetite is huge. If she doesn’t eat, she’ll die.”

Nearby, several Special Assault Team members nodded like this was established fact.

Feng Ling stared at them. “…Fine.”

She didn’t even try to explain.